Cliff's Edge
by DarkPhoenixIncarnate
Summary: Oneshot! PWP Pearl/MysteryGirl with lots of Polygems references. "And Pearl wants to lie to herself. Wants to say this is nothing more than a social gathering, a person and a gem meeting for a casual conversation, perhaps a drink of juice or something just as revolting. But the anticipation, the anxiety knotting in her belly overpowers any lie she could attempt."


Anxious is not strong enough a word.

On the empty seat beside her the mobile communication device vibrates again, another 'text message' and it can from none other than _her._ Pearl's hands tightens around the steering wheel, her throat heavy, and though she drives the speed limit she feels as though she's _racing._ With her pulse echoing all around her Pearl wants to ask herself what she's thinking, what she's _doing,_ where she's even _going._

But she says nothing, knowing the only reply that would come is the humming of the engine, the static quiet of the radio she'd long since turned off.

The questions are redundant, Pearl doesn't need to ask, she already knows _exactly_ what she's doing.

Knew from the moment Steven explained to her that the digits written on the slip of paper were a phone number, knew from the moment she'd felt the heated flush rise to her cheeks, the desire like a sword lancing through her sternum. The quicked pulse of her gem had been a backdrop beat to her steps as she'd approached the car wash that very same night, asking Greg with fingers laced together behind her back if he could, perhaps, spare her a cellular device. Telling him, telling herself, that it would be far more convenient should she ever need to contact Steven.

But when Greg had approached her this morning with a brand new cellular device in hand, an unknowing, _kind_ smile on his lips, the first number, the _only_ number she had input into the device had been _hers._

On the seat beside her, another vibration sounds. It had taken her a few moments, a thorough read of the included manual to figure out how exactly to work the device, and though she may not be as quick with her fingers when it comes to texting, she'd managed to send the first message without hitch.

And now here she is, driving Greg's car deep into the night, the passing street lights just barely illuminating the deserted roads, and Pearl wants to lie to herself. Wants to say this is nothing more than a social gathering, two people, well, one person and a gem, in this case, meeting for a casual conversation, perhaps a drink of juice or something just as revolting.

Another vibration sounds out in the otherwise silence, and the anticipation, the anxiety knotting in her belly overpowers any lie she could attempt.

The clock on the console blinks a dim green, another reminder that somewhere far behind her, Steven is tucked away safely in bed, far into his dreams and Pearl's hands tighten around the steering wheel, throat heavy with the urge to turn back, just _turn back,_ throw the cellular device out the window and forget it all.

She hasn't felt this way in _millennia,_ that she is doing something incredibly _wrong,_ that she is doing something fundamentally _right._

The duality of it wars within her, a persistent screeching of thoughts coupled with images of the girl she'd met, of Amethyst, Garnet, Greg, Steven, Rose.

 _Rose._

It shouldn't feel wrong.

And within the constant warring this is the strongest justification for her actions, what had her acquiring a phone, borrowing Greg's car. This is only fair. How many human lovers has Rose had over the years? How many men, women, and humans classified as neither or both has she taken into her bed? Surely Rose, if she knew what Pearl were planning to do now, what Pearl is eagerly driving towards with her lip caught forever between her teeth, would not condemn her for this.

No, no she wouldn't. Pearl tightens her grip on the steering wheel and lets out a quiet sigh. She can imagine with perfect clarity exactly what Rose's reaction would be. Those dark eyes would widen, beautiful pink lips would part in wordless astonishment, but only for a moment before her beloved eyes would grow hooded with delight, before a smirk would stretch across her soft lips, and she'd perhaps say something with a tone full of teasing and pride all at once. Rose would, without hesitation, _encourage_ her.

She'd probably ask to _watch._

Pearl swallows useless, unnecessary air again and again, releases her battered lower lip and knows that if she holds the steering wheel any tighter then it'll bend beneath her grip. It takes effort to force her hands to loosen, to ignore the vibration that comes from the phone on the passenger's seat, the knee-jerk reaction to read the message near impossible to ignore. What if it was the woman telling her she'd changed her mind? What if she decided that Pearl was too odd, too…

No. No she wants this. Wants _her._

She never would have given away her cellular number, her _address,_ if that wasn't the case.

The headlights of Greg's car illuminate a passing street sign, she recognizes it from one of the text messages she'd received, from the map she'd looked up on the internet so she could ensure she wouldn't get lost on the way. Nearly there, according to the site she'd read, at this point it'll only be another ten minutes.

Pearl tries not to think about the girl. Pearl _cannot_ stop thinking about the girl.

This shouldn't feel wrong, this shouldn't feel like _cheating._

A human concept, an absurd concept. All of Rose's human lovers aside, Pearl has, and continues to love Garnet, has _made love_ to her countless times over their shared millenia. But being with Garnet never felt wrong, never filled her with an anticipation that so mirrored the feeling of dread she could not differentiate between the two.

Even that very first time, thousands of years ago, had not been like this. But then, _Rose_ had been there with her, smiling at her with those luminous eyes and telling Pearl that her desire for Garnet was no secret, nor was it a secret that Garnet desired her in return.

Maybe it's the absence of Rose that's causing this turmoil. Not that she'd ever needed permission should she have chosen to do this _before_. She is her own gem, she belongs to nobody but herself. This body is her own to do with as she wishes, and none can tell her otherwise. But perhaps it was… _validating_ to have Rose there, encouraging her, a wordless approval neither requested nor required but _there_ nonetheless.

Except, that doesn't explain _Amethyst._ She hadn't felt guilt with Amethyst the, only hesitation, and even then it was something far removed from what she feels now. Her love for Amethyst has always been there, the evolution of that love into something deeper is what had startled her, frightened her. Their _physical_ love only began manifesting these last few years, but there was never any _guilt,_ never a feeling of _betrayal._

Pearl turns the wheel, the worn leather sliding beneath her hands, the brakes squealing quietly as she brings the car to a stop in the driveway. She swallows dryly, wishes for a liquid, for tea, anything to wash away this _dread._ She wants only to feel the desire, the anticipation, wants only for the decisiveness in which she sent those first few messages to return.

The beam headlights reflect off the white garage door, bathing the interior of the car in light, beneath her the seat trembles with the turning of this old engine, this car that she borrowed from Rose's lover, the father of her son. Pearl's fingertips linger on the keys still caught in the ignition and she wonders for the hundredth time if this was a mistake, if she should she put the car in reverse now, before it's too late, drive off into the night with her pulse hammering and throat aching.

Or if she should turn off the engine, step into the night and knock on the door. Do what it is she came here to do, what a part of her _desires_ to do more than she could've ever anticipated.

If she stays, will she be consumed by this illogical guilt? If she leaves, will she forever regret?

Pearl doesn't know, she _desperately_ wants to know.

Two strong knocks against the window of the drivers side door have her startling, so hard she near jumps in her seat, turning so sharply her arm brushes over the horn and a quick, overloud _honk_ echoes in the otherwise silence. Outside the car, with wide, blinking eyes are that are green, _so green,_ is the human woman, her hand pulled back from the driver's window, looking just as startled by her dramatic reaction.

A flush starts to prickle over Pearl's cheeks, down her neck. She wants to say something to the woman, say _anything_ but her embarrassment has her caught between breaths, has her staring wide eyed and shocked and _still._

Thankfully, the woman speaks first. "Hey, are you okay?" She leans in close to the car again, thick arms wrapped about her body in an attempt to protect herself from the cold. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Her breath fans across the glass, warm air steaming a small portion of the window and leaning as she is, Pearl cannot help but notice that the cleavage of her breasts is clearly visible, the curve of them more dramatic so squeezed together by her thick arms.

Pearl looks away before the woman catches the line of her gaze, shaking her head and without thinking, without _allowing_ herself to think, turns the key in the ignition, shivering as the car goes still and silent. "It's alright." Her voice is barely above a whisper, and she doubts the woman heard it, doubts the words were for anyone but herself.

The driver side door is opened for her, and the cold night air of winter's approach tingles across her skin. "Sure is chilly out here, aren't you cold in that?" She turns her head to look at the woman who extends a hand to her, an offer to help her out of the car. Her stomach turns, cheeks tingling with a flush, and tells herself not to think.

 _Don't think._

She takes the woman's hand.

"No." The physical sensation of _cold_ is something she is aware of, yes, but it does not affect her, not in the way it does the human woman whose skin reacts with small bumps that rise along her arms, over the bare expanse of her stomach, her neck. Goosebumps, Steven calls them. It's a name that's never made any sense to her, but she wants to reach out and brush her fingers over the raised flesh regardless, wants to _feel_ the bumps beneath her hands.

"Come on." The woman grins at her, her lip ring reflecting the dull orange of the porch light as Pearl is led into a house she does not recognize, hand in hand with a _human._ Their fingers do not twine together, that's a choice she makes consciously, but she watches their hands where they meet, the play of light shifting over their skin, noting contrasts between the whiteness of hers, and the tanned shades of the human woman's. Maybe _that's_ the reason for this feeling, maybe it's because she is a _human,_ something _other,_ she has never been intimate with a human before.

A door is opened and Pearl follows without comment or complaint as she's led into a pitch black room, the hand in hers tightening while the other is reaching out, reaching up for something dangling above them. A light switch that her human companion, her soon to be- …cannot see. But she is a gem, and her night vision is superior. After the second missed attempted and the quiet curse by the human woman Pearl reaches up, taking the dangling string and giving it a light tug, illuminating a descending flight of stairs into what must be a basement. The woman looks back at her, dusty pink hair falling over her shoulders, a smirk coming to those thick, pierced lips. "Nice aim."

And that has Pearl bowing her head, flushing deeply, fixating on their hands and the gentle squeeze that comes, the timbre of the human woman's voice. "Come on, we're almost there." The woman's thumb strokes at the back of her hand, and once their steps resume Pearl allows herself to look up again, at her shoulders this time, the thickness of them, the hair brushing over tanned skin.

Pink hair, thick arms, full lips. Is this where the dread comes from? The vague, all too familiar, all too distant resemblance to a gem whom she loves so deeply? Is this why it feels wrong, like _cheating_ , like a _betrayal,_ to have a human who looks like Rose?

Pearl watches her movements without shame, without hesitation, the sway of her hips with each step she takes, the feel of that large hand in hers. She is not Rose, she does not look like Rose, not exactly. There are too many differences for Pearl to even pretend otherwise. Her hair, for one, is not the right shade, not the right length, it does not curl in ringlets, does not cascade down her spine.

That hand in hers pulls away as they reach the bottom of the staircase. "One sec, let me turn on the lights." In the dim illumination of the single, flickering bulb behind her Pearl stands, still and silent, observing as the woman moves around the darkened room. Her body is not as thick as Roses, though their heights are similar. But this woman's arms are too thin, her stomach too flat, thighs not wide enough. Rose Quartz's figure, her _body_ was all encompassing, when she'd crawl atop Pearl the feel of her sheer weight was so utterly intoxicating, the rounded thickness of her thighs, the rolls of flesh at her belly, the mounds of her breasts, the width of her neck, so beautiful, all framed by endless curls of bright pink. A vision Pearl could look upon for an eternity and still not be satisfied.

This human woman is not Rose. She bares a vague resemblance, but there is nothing, nobody, gem nor human who can compare to the beauty of Rose Quartz in her eyes.

But she's not supposed to think about the past anymore.

Pearl blinks, pulled from her thoughts as small, rainbow colored lights that hang from the ceiling flicker to life, dim enough that they're not overpowering, bright enough that she can see her surroundings. They are, as she'd deduced, in a basement, the walls all around her are brick, above lay the foundations of the woman's home, wood and aging with the strings of light hanging across the beams. The room is adorned with many items, though not messy, there are no clothes strewn across the floor, no clutter, in the corner are two guitars, a bass, on the wall beside the bed a rack of cd's, a large music player, to its right, a bookshelf filled to the brim with tomes. She wonders what kind of books this human reads, what fills her shelves, her thoughts.

The woman approaches her, a hand rubbing at the back of her neck. "Home sweet home. Sorry, it's kind of-"

"It's fine." She says it a little too sharply, and cannot help her inward flinch. All of her nerves are bleeding through, and she feels as though she is on the edge of a precipice, a chasm, and she doesn't know how to pull herself back, doesn't know to how to simply let herself _fall._

Pearl turns to face the woman, brings a smile forth and is surprised to find that, despite _everything_ , it's quite genuine."I mean...it's perfect. I... thank you, for inviting me." Those green eyes widen, before full lips split into a smile that's undeniably beautiful, a quiet laugh sounding out in a voice that has her breath catching, her cheeks flushing.

"You're cute as hell, you know that?"

That's a contradiction if she's ever heard one, and she might have said so if the woman hadn't leaned into her and suddenly there are warm lips pressing to her own, the alien feel of metal, what must be her lip ring cool in contrast to her heated skin and Pearl realizes in this moment that this is happening, that she is being _kissed_ by a human woman.

And she freezes.

Freezes in a way she hasn't done since that first time, six thousand, one hundred and fourteen years ago when _Rose Quartz_ kissed her. And before she can figure out what to do, before she can talk herself into kissing back the girl is pulling away, eyebrow raised, her expression caught between bemusement and concern. Pearl hadn't even been aware of the fingers brushing over her cheek, the thumb stroking across her skin, until right this moment.

"Hey," That voice is the epitome of calm, husky, _cool._ "We don't have to do this, you know. You don't gotta do anything you don't want to." Was she really giving off such an impression? That she traveled all this way to deny this woman, deny _herself._ She knows she needs to say something, she curses herself for her inability to speak, to explain.

Needs to tell her that she knows, she _knows_ but she _wants_ this and Pearl has no idea how to convey to this human how significant that is, the fact that she is allowed to _want,_ to _have_ as she wishes,even after six thousand years of freedom, each choice she makes is as exhilarating as the last, as empowering as the first. There are no words adequate enough to describe always understood perfectly, their love in it of itself was a law broken, her first criminal act.

But it's these thoughts, that have caused her hesitation that have brought her to this point, to this precipice, to this _choice._ This is her decision, right here, right now, in this moment.

And Pearl chooses not to think, instead she fists her hands in the collar of this human woman's shirt and surges forward, kissing her in all the ways she's learned how to over the years, with the depth that Rose loved, the intensity that Garnet craves, the gentleness that Amethyst needs, the _want_ that she feels.

She allows herself to fall over the edge, and it's here that the dance truly starts. It is achingly familiar, yet shockingly new, a warm tongue plunging into her mouth that she meets without hesitation, tangling her fingers into thick hair that is surprisingly coarse, another new sensation that she clings to, which apparently brings the human woman some pleasure as a moan presses into her mouth, and Pearl feels just a bit satisfied with herself, pulling back from the kiss to allow the woman to breathe, unable to help but grin, just a little, at the shell shocked surprise on her face, the kiss swollen flush already rising to her lips. "Holy shit, you…"

And Pearl can't help it, giddy suddenly, seeing a woman as _cool_ as her, so seemingly unflappable flushed in such a way because of _her_ has her near smug. "Yes?"

The girl shakes her head, hair fanning out, dusty pink and a myriad of other shades thanks to the rainbow lights above. "Nah just, you struck me as kind of new to this sort of thing."

Behind them is the bed, the only disheveled part of the room, a large mattress on the floor with blankets and an absurd number of pillows strewn atop it. Her aim has always been perfect, and it is as though her inhibitions are being stripped away, one by one, like the articles of cloth her fingers itch to peel back from this human's skin. She presses her hands to those thick shoulders and gives a gentle _shove._ The woman gasps out in surprise, falling back onto the bed, immediately propping herself up onto her shoulders and bursting into a peal of breathless laughter.

And Pearl _smiles,_ sliding atop the bed to join her, on hands and knees, the mattress so soft it sinks beneath her meager weight as she climbs atop it and, emboldened, into the human woman's lap, resting her knees against the bed and straddling thick thighs. But it's her _lips_ that Pearl cannot help but fixate on, thick and firm, with a ring of metal that she finds she wants to _taste,_ and when Pearl speaks again she barely recognizes her own voice. "I think you'll find I'm far more experienced in this sort of thing than I seem."

"Oh yeah?" And that draws Pearl's gaze away from the woman's lips and to her _eyes,_ a dark, mischievous green, pupils dilating before they narrow onto her, and Pearl finds the dark blue paint that streaks across eyelids is stunning in a way she hadn't anticipated. " _Prove it_."

Pearl's never been one to back down from a challenge.

Their lips meet again, mouths opening without preamble and Pearl is moving in closer to this woman, settling into her lap with more firmness, those large hands gripping at her hips, pulling their bodies in closer together until Pearl is near trembling, groaning low in her throat when she feels firm, warm breasts push against her chest.

A hot, _wet_ tongue slides across hers and this woman tastes of the Earth, sweet like fresh dew, addictive, and she chases the flavor upon her tongue marveling at how she tastes _so good,_ new in a way that Pearl cannot help but delight in, better than any _juice_ she'd attempted to sample and for what? To prove something to herself? To Amethyst?

In the end she is here, not because she achieved level of _cool_ previously absent from her, but simply because she _chose_ to be, chose to, in that moment, have the courage to approach the human woman, and now she is kissing that very same woman, moaning as their tongues meet, rocking their hips together in slow, grinding thrusts.

A sound pleasure passes between them, so mingled that she is unsure who made it, only knows that desire is pulsing heady and hot through every last inch of her, that all the dread, the anxiety, the _guilt_ that so twisted and churned within her belly has begun to dissipate. And in its place there is nothing but _heat_ and she wants, she _wants_. Her palms move over the bared skin of the woman's stomach, tugging on her shirt, their lips parting just enough for her to fist the white fabric in her hands, lifting it up over the woman's head. Breath catching, she watches, captivated by the cascade of dusty pink as it disappears and reappears again through the hole in the cloth, mussed and disarrayed.

Their kiss has left the woman breathless, her full breasts rising and falling with each rapid intake of air, skin still obscured by the black lace of her bra, a high flush of arousal coloring her cheeks and Pearl has never _desired_ a human before, not like this. She has found the women beautiful, no doubt, some of Rose's past lovers were _stunning,_ in a way that even her jealousy could not force her to ignore. And though Rose had more than implied Pearl was invited to join them, to indulge in the human's play along with her, Pearl had never any desire to do so, never any _desire_ for the humans at all.

Dark green eyes stare into her own with an intensity that has her near shivering, her trembling with the anticipation to meet it head on.

She wonders what's changed.

She knows _exactly_ what's changed.

The woman kisses her again, with a _need_ that feels to her more like what she imagines hunger must be. It is a kiss not unlike Garnet's, who takes her mouth like she is devouring her, though this kiss is far less aggressive, deeper, but hungry all the same and Pearl allows herself to arch into it, to give quarter as her hands move to explore the skin now bared to her. This human's breasts are warm and thick and Pearl's hands are not large enough to encompass the whole of them but she squeezes gently regardless, gauging her reaction, only to smile against her lips when the woman shivers, when those bumps rise along the patches of skin uncovered by the cloth of her bra.

Gentle it is, then. She can do that, and it's almost a relief finding yet another difference between this woman and Rose Quartz, who preferred firm touches, who would gasp and quake when Pearl would knead her breasts with strong, pressured grips.

But she is not thinking of the past tonight, she is not there, with Rose. She is here, with this human woman, who pulls back from their kiss for breaths of precious air that she desperately needs to survive. That Pearl, in her desire had forgotten was a necessity, and she tries to keep a mental note of it, this glaring difference in their species, tries to remember to allow this woman a chance to _breathe._

Those large hands move all across her, heavy thumbs stroking at her thighs, spreading her legs wider apart while thick digits tease at the crux between her legs in a way that has Pearl's back arching, her own breaths quickening and fingers beginning to tremble as her hands slide up the woman's bared back, reaching for the clasp of her bra. She busies herself with kissing along the curve of her neck, her throat, feeling those subtle _goosebumps_ rise with each new limit she tests.

So far it seems she can do no wrong, every brush of her lips, no matter how gentle, is met with a low, encouraging moan. The temptation that comes is impossible to ignore, she nips hard at the curve of a breast, and is rewarded with a gasp so sharp that she nearly startles, pink hair brushing over her fingers as the woman throws her head back, baring the column of her throat.

" _Ah, hell, ah_ , _yeah just...just like that."_

She's glad to oblige, nipping at the curve of her breasts, at the long column of her throat in a way that ensures will leave a mark, wonders if this woman enjoys being marked by a lover as much as she does, only to pause in her ministrations when she feels large hands at her waist, sliding beneath the illusioned fabric of her shorts.

Pearl forces herself not to freeze, not to tense, to allow this touch.

This is what she wants, this is what she _chooses._

But, this will be the first time she has allowed anything but another gem to _touch_ her so intimately.

She swallows wetly, forces in a deep breath and focuses on the removal of the woman's bra, but she can't quite see the clasp and, momentarily distracted she forgets exactly where the woman's hands were heading, so when they dip into the fabric of her shorts and squeeze at her bum, the sound she makes is an undignified squeak of surprise, so loud she clasps a hand over her mouth, but the damage has been done.

The woman's voice follows a beat later, breath warm against her cheek, her low chuckle vibrates within the thick column of her throat and she can _feel_ it there, trembling against her lips. "I'm guessing you're a bit sensitive?" Pearl flushes deeply, bowing her head and, in revenge for her teasing nips at the woman's collar, leaving a small yet noticeable mark, embarrassed and but still wanting all at once. "You caught me off guard."

Another laugh comes and Pearl's flush is consuming the whole of her face as she tries to focus on returning to her previous task of unclasping the woman's bra, when suddenly those large hands squeeze at her, _hard,_ blunted nails biting in her skin and that alone sends such a shock of pleasure through her that a gasp is ripped from her throat, that her head falls forward, momentarily stunned with her gem pressing into the curve of this human's neck, the clasp forgotten. Her voice comes again, lower, deeper, and Pearls skin prickles at the tone, much in the way she imagines _goosebumps_ would feel. "Mmm, well _that_ was one hell of a reaction…so you like it rough huh?"

The fabric of her shorts is yanked down, hanging off of her thighs before those blunted nails scratch twin lines from the backs of her thighs, up, _up_ until they reach the base of her spine, leaving Pearl a gasping, shuddering mess against her, overwhelmed by pure _sensation,_ the feel of this woman's curved chest pressing to hers, the hitch of her own breaths as she clings onto the woman's back, face buried into her neck, gem against smooth, burning skin and she can still _hear_ the human's voice, teasing and questioning, echoing through her thoughts.

"I…" And that brings forth the memory, the _sensation_ of Rose's thick fingers pumping into her, relentless and _incredible,_ the weight of her body atop hers and those large hands gripping her hips so tightly that bruises would marr her skin for days. She thinks of _Garnet,_ how she loves to slam Pearl up against the nearest wall, press a knee hard between her legs and bite at her neck and collar and breasts until Pearl is covered in the evidence of their lovemaking. Recalls _Amethyst,_ her sharp nails dragging down her back, over her thighs as she'd bury her face between the crux of Pearl's legs and she's shuddering all over again, moaning low in her throat, the heat of her arousal flushing across her neck.

" _Yes._ " Yes, she thinks she does quite like it rough, and finds she feels emboldened by that revelation. " _Harder._ "

Pearl _wants,_ and she will have, and she will not hold herself back from this. The woman complies immediately and for a moment, Pearl allows herself to simply _be,_ to allow each shudder of pleasure to rush through her, pressing back into the woman's hands, shameless and hungry with her lips dragging across warm skin and beneath it Pearl can _feel_ the drum-beat of her heart. And it's something entirely _new,_ a _heartbeat_ pumping blood through her soon to be lover's veins, the proof of this human's life, and her _death,_ right here, right now, pulsing strong and sure against Pearl's lips.

It is a reminder that she, herself, is transcendent, that this moment, this human, this time spent here is merely a blip, a split second to her thousands of years and yet it is _significant._ Pearl feels as though something is beginning to shift within her, that this human woman, with her strong hands, her pierced lips, and deep green eyes, is only the beginning. She welcomes the change, she welcomes the immediacy of this moment, nipping gently at the skin above her left breast, over her heart, just as her fingers manage to _finally_ unclasp her bra.

She takes a moment to simply _look_ at her, at this human woman, now mostly bare, with full breasts and hardened, brown nipples. "Hey," She looks up to meet those eyes, half lidded and _dark._ "Your turn."

Her clothes are melded to her body, but this human doesn't need to know that, and it's easier to just shapeshift her top into something that can be removed, which she does, and in one quick sweep, before any of her doubt or hesitation can return she pulls the cloth up over her head, purposely tossing it out of the woman's line of sight so that when it dissipates it'll go unnoticed.

Pearl allows this human one quick look at her before she's tangling her fingers in dusty pink hair, drawing her in. This kiss is _harder,_ rougher, a little more intense than anything they've shared thus far and Pearl throws all of herself into it, drags her tongue over the cool metal of her lip piercing again and again as she kisses her, arching her hips, giving the woman leverage to pull off her shorts entirely. The cool air of the basement brushes across her bare skin, the crux between her legs _burning_ in comparison and she wants to be be touched, wants to be taken, wants to _take._

She kisses the woman harder, hands roaming her chest, thumbs rubbing slow circles around her hardened nipples, pinching lightly, and grinning when a moan sounds between their lips, breaking their kiss apart, the human's breath growing heavier with each passing moment and Pearl cannot help herself, she teases just a bit, echoing the woman's words back at her. "A bit sensitive?"

"Shit _yeah, yeah_ but you're _so good_ , keep going, _please._ "

Pearl wasn't expecting the flood of arousal those words could bring, feels her face burn with a flush but she feels _bold_ suddenly, excited and encouraged and she clings to the feeling with all her might, pushes back against those thick shoulders again and of course her superior strength has the woman falling onto her back, a sharp exhale of surprise is all she manages before Pearl is climbing on top of her, finding her lips again, kissing her, chasing the taste of dew on her tongue.

All while thin fingers roam over wide hips and _oh, oh_ she's become impatient now, removing every article of clothing she can find and Pearl thinks she regrets not trying this sooner, regrets not taking Rose up on her numerous offers, and she told herself she wouldn't think of the past anymore but she finds that now, as she moves down this woman's bared body, lips dragging over sweat slicked skin, as she slides between thick thighs and gets her first, _true_ taste of her, that the past is as real as this.

That the past is what has brought her here, now.

And it all comes together, the taste of this woman on her tongue, the timbre of her voice as she cries out her pleasure, fingers tangling in Pearl's hair, it's all here. The tensing of this human woman's body beneath her hands, the low, hitching gasps of Rose's ecstasy, the sensation of Garnet's powerful thighs wrapped around her, the way Amethyst's hands can never be still, always touching, nails scratching across her scalp. It's all the same, it's all so different, each moment and touch and _taste_ as significant as all that had come before, and she never wants to deny herself any of it again.

Pearl pours all of this into her movements, slides thin fingers between slicked lips with slow, precise movements while her tongue laps up the taste of this human woman, flicks sharply across that hardened nub until her back arches off the bed like a bow, the cries of her pleasure ringing out all around them, shuddering down Pearl's spine with and filling her senses along with the taste of her.

She pulls back a moment later, breathless, her lips slick and wet, tongue numb and tingling and the scent of this woman is all around her, so strong and heady that it fills the room and it's near _obscene_ how much she enjoys it. How much she wants to linger, taste her again and again, sweeter and more desired than any sugary concoction the humans could create.

Pearl watches, fascinated as each heavy breath fills the woman's chest, her stomach, all of her body seemingly rising and falling with the desperate need for _air._ Her cheeks, her ears are flushed dark, hair disheveled, a halo of dusty pink all around her head and Pearl isn't expecting it, when the woman reaches for her, pupils blown wide and lips parted, strong hands on her hips pulling her closer. But she goes willingly, eagerly, their lips fitting together, surprised she even has the breath to kiss with. But all thoughts fall away when two thick digits begin stroking between her legs, a whimper catching in the hollows of her throat as a rough, _calloused_ thumb brushes over that hardened bud.

The woman pulls back, pierced lips trailing a line of cool metal across the curve of her jaw. " _Fuck,_ you're so beautiful."

Those fingers slide into her, one, then the second, without any preamble or hesitation and Pearl is crying out, pushing back against them as they begin pumping into her quick and hard in just the way she's always liked but this woman is not Rose, burying her face into coarse pink hair, whimpering, moaning, rocking her hips against her, trying to bring those digits in deep is not a betrayal to Rose, or Garnet, or Amethyst. It is her own choice, it is what she wants and _oh_ does she want, she wants, she wants ,she _wants_ and it feels _so, so good._

" _Yeah,_ just like that, come on baby, come on, _come for me._ "

Pearl allows herself to let go, not of the past, the future or the present, but the need to force it all away, the desire to deny it because she _cannot._ It's all here, she wants it all to be here, in this moment, the memory of Rose's touch, of Garnet's, Amethyst's, the new memory this will make, the feeling of all their hands, all of their love and desire, all here, mingled with the sharp teeth that nip at her neck, the nails biting into her skin, the thick fingers pumping into her, crooking within her deeper, deeper, _there._

And she comes undone.

She makes a show of putting on her clothes again, pretending it's something she actually _needs_ to do is amusing, she even gives them the appearance of dishevelment, allows her hair to remain as unkempt as it must be, bangs brushing across her gem in a way that, the rare times it's happened, has always annoyed her but in this moment she finds she's far too sated to care, her mind is too calm, thoughts too still.

Pearl _breathes,_ although she does not need to, she breathes and does not punish herself for the action, does not lament on the uselessness of the act, simply does it as she ties her sash around her waist, haphazard and loose.

The human woman is watching her from the bed, laying completely bare, _beautiful_ in the flickering rainbow lights above. A lit cigarette balances between her fingers, every now and then she'll puff on it with lazy, deep inhales, and each time Pearl must resist the urge to tell her how unhealthy the habit is.

"You sure you don't wanna stay a little longer?"

The invitation to have her again is clearly given, and Pearl smiles easily, in a way she rarely indulges in. "I would, but I need to get back." Before the others wonder where she is, before _Steven_ can notice her absence.

"I'll walk you out."

And before she can say that it isn't necessary, the girl is standing and Pearl truly, _honestly,_ cannot help but watch as she reaches for her discarded clothing, bending to pick her plaid shirt off the floor. She does not wrap it around her waist as is what appears to be her norm, instead pulls it on, not bothering with the buttons, leaving the curve of her breasts clearly visible, painfully distracting. The pants come next, loose and hanging low off of her hips, the beginnings of dark, wiry hairs peeking out from the loose waistband.

Pearl turns away before temptation can strike again.

She's three steps out the front door and into the early morning air before the woman's voice calls out a quiet, "Hey, wait." And she turns to face her human lover, who leans against the doorframe of her home, as nonchalant, _cool_ as one can be. The lit cigarette lingers between her fingers, her hair is utterly disheveled, she is barely dressed, but she is _stunning._ Those kiss swollen lips part, desire still bright in her emerald eyes. "I never got your name."

Pearl blinks in surprise, car keys in hand as the realization comes and _oh,_ oh that's right. She never even bothered to learn her name, how…. _renegade_ of her. "Pearl," Is her reply, and it's only after she says it that she realizes she could've made something up, something perhaps a bit _cooler._ Oh, well. "And yours?"

The woman grins at her, flicking her cigarette into the night. "Selene."

And that has Pearl laughing, a quiet, breathless thing, before resuming her steps towards the car. "You know, you're named after a moon goddess." She opens the car door and glances over her shoulder at Selene, a small smirk playing on her lips. "It suits you."

The girl, Selene stares at her with widened eyes, and perhaps she's said something a bit too odd, do humans even remember what their ancestors named their goddesses? "Thank you, Selene, for the lovely evening."

The way home has her driving towards the rising sun, with the windows rolled down she allows one hand to rest outside the car, to feel the cool morning air of this planet she truly loves. Wind rustles through her hair, and there is a small smile on her lips that she does not care to suppress, not with the taste of fresh dew still upon her tongue, the phantom brush of a mental ring against her skin.

She thinks she might understand now, what Rose saw in the humans, why she took them into her bed, isn't afraid to say that she enjoyed this night. That she may even do it again.

And some day, if Rose ever comes back, she'll be sure to tell her all about it.

The phone on the passenger's seat beside her vibrates, and Pearl's smile splits into a grin.

Somehow she knows Rose will be _delighted_ to hear the tale.

-END-


End file.
